


Returning The Favor

by KoolJack1



Series: Hannibal Kink Meme Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Emotional pain, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Nightmares, Understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:29:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoolJack1/pseuds/KoolJack1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written For The Prompt: Hannibal has nightmares about his sister, Will comforts him.</p><p>http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/2246.html?thread=3156166#cmt3156166</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returning The Favor

Will wasn't sure if things were awkward, or if he just felt awkward. Hannibal wasn't an awkward person, he was always comfortable. It unnerved Will, seeing him so frayed after the incident. Walking in and seeing Hannibal's once pristine office in ruins, and Hannibal's typically gathered appearance in shambles had left him shaky too. The other man had looked shaken in the office, shaken enough that Will had quietly offered to let him spend some time at his house until he felt comfortable enough to go back to his own home.

Hannibal, much to Will's surprise, had answered yes without much hesitation.

Once they had gotten there, after a quick stop at Hannibal's so he had a change of clothes, Will had directed Hannibal to the bathroom and fished out a first aid kit for him. He'd hovered in the bathroom door, contemplating on offering help. When Hannibal winced removing his shirt, Will averted his eyes, "Maybe you should have gone to the hospital, but if you wont; I can help you clean those up if you want." It was an innocent offer, and he glanced at Hannibal from under his lashes when he felt the other man's eyes on him.

He was willing to help, but he silently hoped the other man wouldn't ask- dressing the wounds on his well sculpted back and chest reminded Will that he shouldn't even be noticing how toned he really was. "I do appreciate the offer, Will; but I'll be alright. Thank you."

Will awkwardly nodded and backed out into the hallway, "I'll be downstairs, I'll make us tea."  
He hadn't waited around for Hannibal to say more, and he busied himself with making tea so he didn't make himself anxious over having a houseguest. No one ever spent a long period of time here with him. In fact, he'd only ever had one woman spend the night and that was because she came on to him. She paid no attention to his awkwardness, she was even bold enough to ask him to take her to his place. He bit his lip at the memory, pouring two cups of tea and heading into the living room to set one down on the coffee table and the other where he worked on his fishing tackle.

He needed to stay focused on something, his fishing hooks seemed his best bet. His dogs were sprawled all over the floor fast asleep, and he grateful they wouldn't bother Hannibal. "Thank you for the tea." The voice startled him and he spun around in his chair and smiled a half smile at the other man.

He took in his outfit, swallowing roughly. It seemed so strange to him, seeing Hannibal in a plain very white t-shirt and a pair of expensive looking sweatpants. Absurd of him to think the other man never once changed out of his suits, even to sleep. Hannibal must have read his thoughts and smirked at him before sitting on the couch with more grace than Will had ever seen anyone do before.

"Contrary to typical beliefs, I don't sleep in my suits."

"I actually never really pictured you sleeping at all," Will said, wincing at how it came out.

Unfazed as always Hannibal laughed quietly, "I indeed sleep too, I participate in all the things everyday people do." Will couldn't wrap his mind around why that seemed so strange to him. Hannibal was just another person, underneath the constant composure and elegance.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that."

"Don't apologize, I've heard things like that before. All my life, actually."

Will hadn't considered that either, Hannibal having a past. Hannibal having a life beyond what he knew. He looked much better now, clean of blood; his hair hanging over his face not in it's typical style. He sipped his tea, and Will turned to continue with his work.

"I appreciate you letting me stay here, I know you aren't a fan of house guests," Hannibal said conversationally.

Will didn't turn around so the other man wouldn't see the faint blush of his cheeks, "It's the least I can do after I almost got you killed. Besides, I'm not opposed to having company, I just don't have anyone to be the company usually." He hated the way everything that came out of his mouth made him seem more pathetic. If it had been anyone but Hannibal, he would have been embarrassed. Hannibal never made him feel bad about anything.

"Relieve yourself of that undeserved guilt, Will. What happened wasn't your fault."

"I suppose so," nothing would actually change his mind. He can't imagine what he'd done if he'd walked into Hannibal's office and found his friend dead on the floor because he let the killer get away. His only friend.

"I'm terribly tired," hearing anything about feeling something coming out of Hannibal's mouth made Will feel even more uncomfortable.

"You can sleep in my room, I'll sleep on the couch. You can go in there whenever you'd like."

"Will, you need your rest. You never sleep well. I have no problem sleeping down here. I'll even know if you try to sleepwalk outside."

He'd considered that. What if he tried to sleepwalk out of here? Or had a nightmare? He made a fool of himself in front of Hannibal enough. Telling the man about it and actually forcing him to experience it and put up with it was something completely different. He didn't tell Hannibal he didn't plan on sleeping tonight so that wouldn't happen.

"I want to insist you have the bed, but if you're more comfortable down here; I'll get you a blanket and a pillow." He's lucky he even has an extra.

He tries not to stare at Hannibal, who's covered and laying on his couch. It seems so normal and average for the man to be doing. There was nothing normal and average about Hannibal Lecter. "Help yourself to anything." He added as an afterthought before turing and heading for his own room before he made things worse.

"Sleep well, Will."

"You too," he doubted it was loud enough for Hannibal to hear.

-

It's too cold to breathe, the air hurts his insides. Everything hurts.

He's weak; tired. He wants to sleep, he wants to cry and for his mother to wake him up and tell him it's a bad dream.

Out the window he can see their bodies laying facedown in the snow and it makes him sick. Mischa is laying down, her head in his lap; her blonde curls sticking in every direction. He smooths them down with his trembling fingers while she coughs in her sleep. His chest tightens with unshed tears and he remembers a conversation he had with his father before things had gotten bad enough that they had to leave. No matter what happens, take care of your sister. Never leave her side. His father had told him.

It hadn't made sense to him then, he'd just nodded and didn't imagine a time when he would ever leave his sister. 

It made sense now, his father knew it would get this bad.

He knew there would be a time.

The time came not even an hour later, when the disgusting men came up the stairs and cornered them. They'd unchained them, dragging them down the stairs. Mischa screamed and cried, he small hands clinging to his neck. He wanted to cry too, but he wouldn't cry; he wouldn't cry because that would make her more upset.

They pried her little fingers from his skin and he fought their big hands to get to her as they put inches, then feet between them. He bit them and scratched them, screaming that he would kill them if they hurt her.

The ugliest one smiled a toothless smile at him and said no little brat was going to kill anyone.

He fought harder, until the men fought back. They took her outside and shut the door; and he heard her scream and cry until suddenly she was quiet. They hit him, hard enough to knock him out; yet he wouldn't be so lucky. He laid on the floor with tears leaking out of his eyes when they came back through the door. Mischa wasn't with them, but her body was.

He didn't cry as he watched them take her apart, watched them cook her and eat her like the disgusting savages that they were. He felt numb and disconnected, he could still smell Mischa's blonde curls; still feel how soft they were through his fingers.

He didn't resist when they fed him what they'd made, claiming he had to eat as well. He felt sick to his stomach, but too traumatized to do anything but comply. His father had left him one job, stay with his sister; and he couldn't do it.

He ate her insides, and she lived on inside of him.

-

Will was a light sleeper as it was, and he was lying in his bed awake for only about a half an hour when he heard noises downstairs again. He knew it was only Hannibal, but he went to peek anyway. He was shocked; finding the man tangled in the blanket he'd given him. His limbs were trapped, sweat glued his hair to his forehead. Pained words tumbled from his lips without a breath, in a language Will didn't know.

He was having a nightmare. Hannibal Lecter had nightmares. Will briefly considered the fact that Hannibal wrestled with demons of his own- one's that ran deeper than the typical. He wondered if that's why he understood Will's on a level that no one else ever seemed to.

He crouched down, grasping Lecter's twitched wrists with a firm but gentle grip. "Dr. Lecter," he tried once. The man made a panicked noise in his throat and Will swallowed his anxiety and sadness. Seeing the man he considered a rock so distraught pained him.

"Hannibal," he tried, louder this time. It worked, the man's eyes sprung open and he struggled in Will's grasp in an attempt to sit up.

"Calm down, you had a nightmare," Hannibal stared at him uncertainly for a moment before clarity entered his mind and his mask of indifference once again fell over his face. Will watched it happen, the vulnerability and emotion covered and hidden behind the mask of composure and balance that Hannibal had mastered wearing.

Will released his wrists but stayed close, "I'm terribly sorry Will, I didn't mean to disturb you." His voice was even more distant and guarded than usual.

Will made eye contact for a second before looking down at Hannibal's hands as he freed himself from the blanket. "I didn't know you had nightmares. You never told me."

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, "You carry enough burden, Will. I don't usually have nightmares that I'm aware of, I assume today's events have left me more shaken than I anticipated."

Will cleared his throat awkwardly, "What was it about? Did you..Do you want to tell me about it?"

 

Lecter knew it was an attempt to even their playing field; to return the act of friendship and be a confident. He knew Will meant nothing by it except wanting to help.

"I know I'm not a psychiatrist," Will back peddled, "I don't know much about it, and I know you do. I just... Sometimes I feel better just saying it out loud. Letting someone else know, if that makes sense. You can tell me anything."

Hannibal's lips twitched into a smile, if only he could tell Will everything.

He could still smell his sister's hair.

He could still feel how soft her blonde curls were.

It made his stomach ache slightly.

"I dreamed Tobias Budge killed you." Will was shocked for a second before he gathered himself again.

"I'm very much alive, we both are."

"I know, I'm thankful for it."


End file.
